I Will Stand By You
by The Tender Grimm Mouse
Summary: Erik's getting flashbacks to his time in concentration camps. But this is for mutants. The camp is going to kill all of them, whether by cold or starvation he doesn't know. But he has to keep the X-family strong. For once, he is the head.
1. Chapter 1

So... Yeah... I don't like sharing my work but here we go.

This is based roughly in the middle of First Class, before they meet Shaw. It's sort of AU.  
>In this, the human population freaked out after what Shaw did to the CIA, and have been rounding up Mutants. They've been locked away in one of about four camps that reside in America. Nobody knows what is going to happen to the mutants, because even the humans haven't decided what to do with them.<p>

And yes. I fail at summarizing things... But yeah...

This story will involve CHERIK (ERIK / CHARLES) in the future and maybe even a little Hank/Alex. Dun like slash? Dun read it.

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><p>Erik still didn't know how the camp worked, how they found mutants, or how the buildings kept them mundane. All he knew was that every day more new, soft and scared faces appeared to replace those hard, cold and distant ones that vanished. Erik had seen all of this before - the lack of food, the lack of clothing, the lack of rest and the cold dread that came from being locked behind the cold iron bars. He had been younger then and, in that time, had been as scared and hopeless as those that currently surrounded him. But now... Now he knew what to expect, how far he could push and what it took to live.<p>

It was quiet, as it always was after breakfast. Erik scoffed. As if it could be called that. Water and bread hardly counted as breakfast. The metal bender's pale green eyes turned downward, eyeing his sides and ribs with a frown. He was bigger than most, but had also come in later than most. Why? Only because he'd left Xavier mansion on an errand… He'd come back to find nobody there. He'd hunted them down and found this… Compound. Once inside that fence all mutants were powerless. All but human. Some, like Angel who had physical abnormalities still had their powers… But they weren't any luckier. Erik had seen Angel actually, a few days prior on the woman's side of the camp, wings duct taped together behind her. He wondered if she would ever get the tape off without shredding the fragile structures. Not that he cared for her. She'd left them for Shaw, who he had heard died before being taken into the camp. The silent moment of victory was quickly removed from his mind as he had been forced past the walls, into the hell of his past.

Angel wasn't the only familiar face Erik had seen. He'd seen Alex a few times upon passing. The blonde boy had almost always been bruised and beaten. Erik was proud. The two matched in those features because they didn't listen. Alex hadn't seen Sean, Hank or Charles since the first day there, but he had seen Raven with Angel across the divide. It had been days since Erik had seen Alex, however. The thought alone, especially with the knowledge of what _could_ happen… It was something that Erik could not imagine forcing anyone that he knew through.

It was shocking really, how big the camp was. There were four different sections from what Erik had heard the guards muttering about. Two male parts and two female. The rowdy, less co-operative Mutants were separated from the tame ones. Once the rowdy ones (such as himself) were broken, they moved to the other section. Erik certainly hoped that Alex hadn't given in. But he guessed that Charles, Hank and Sean had given in quickly. They were stubborn, but not as tough as he and Alex were, not everyone could live in these conditions and continue to fight.

He'd really gathered that the two sides were the same in the abuse and living status… The only difference was that those on his side still fought back. The others just followed the routine like puppies. They ate when they were supposed to; they slept when they were supposed to. Erik figured they kept them separate so that they could try and tame them all without those like him turning the soft ones hard.

It was all so stupid. Erik hated to admit that Shaw had been right all along. The humans did fear them. They feared them enough to lock them away like animals. The metal bender shifted a little, his bare back sticking to the cool wall behind him. He was in a room full of other male prisoners, most only wearing pants, most bore bruises, and most looked rather lean and hungry. This was only some of the mutants, a handful really. There were multiple holding rooms for them during the day, outdoor and indoor. It was the luck of the draw and the bumping of the crowd that decided where you went each morning.

"Erik…?" came a low voice. Erik blinked, looking up from the floor for the speaker. He knew Alex's voice like a siren now, one familiar tone amongst strangers. "Erik!" The blonde pushed by two mutants arguing, and flopped heavily down on the floor. Erik eyed the kid with concern. He looked fairly good, which was a pleasant surprise. His pale skin was still blotched from bruising and he was dirty, his hair messy, but his blue eyes were alight. The light that still flickered there was a shock, something that had left the eyes of most men after a few days in the camps.

"What?" Erik asked quietly, lifting his gaze to the guard that was seated a little ways away, smoking as he read a newspaper. He seemed oblivious. "Wait, come." Erik said quickly, cutting Alex off before he could speak. He pushed to his feet, gesturing for the younger mutant to follow him as he moved to the furthest corner from the guard. The sound of low murmurs and slapping bare feet were the only sounds in the room, which didn't do much for private conversation. However, the fire in Alex's eyes suggested that their conversation was better off far from prying ears.

"We're breaking out." Alex mumbled breathlessly when Erik cornered him against the cold white wall. Erik blinked, furrowing his brows. He hoped this escape attempt was better planned then the last ones he had seen… Well, was fail to harsh of a word? As much as he wanted out, the plans were always half-cooked, and desperate. They were destined to fail and those that tried to escape rarely made it back inside alive.

"Alex…"

"No, no, just listen. They're doing a move tonight. I've been trying to find you for days. I swear these bastards are keeping friends apart," Alex continued on, excitement still burning in his eyes. "If we can get to the other side, it's less guarded. There're more guards here for, well, obvious reasons."

"Go on…" Erik replied. He might as well listen to the idea before bashing it.

"There are some of us that are going to get through during the move; we'll swap places with some of the softies, because the guards don't pay attention to who's who. Once we're there, those that are left here will start a riot. With all the guards here, there'll be nobody from stopping us from getting out on the easier side. We can get the others out-"

"Alex, this is stupid," Erik cut in.

"But-"

"Alex. I've been here before. That won't work," Erik interrupted again calmly. Alex's face fell, the excited glitter in his eyes falling away. A slight twinge of regret twisted Erik's stomach, but he quickly pushed it away. Besides, Alex was better disappointed than dead.

"R-really?" He said, his tone second guessing the whole plan. Erik turned his arm slightly, his eyes flashing downward to the tattoo etched in his flesh. Alex caught the movement and looked down, his face paling a little.

"Are you sure? I mean…" Alex drifted off, his whole body shrinking. Erik felt bad, his chest squeezed a little. He hadn't meant to smother the one hope Alex had in his sights… But the boy needed to know what was happening.

"Oi. You two, what'er you doin'?" The guard called, looking towards them suspiciously. Erik turned almost rolling his eyes. The mutants were all grumbling amongst themselves, stepping deliberately in the man's way as he headed towards them. They might not all be on first-name basis, or even remotely like a family… But they didn't stand for the abuse each other received.

"Just talking. Is that against the rules…?" Erik asked civilly. The guard shoved his way through the crowd, stopping a foot before them, gun in his hands at the ready. Erik hated feeling so vulnerable around a weapon that he would normally have turned on its owner in a moment.

"Don't sass me. What are you two talkin' about?" The guard asked suspiciously. Erik particularly disliked this guard. For a few reasons; one being that he liked to blow his cigarette right in his face. Mocking. Erik hadn't smoked in years, but being in this hellhole had his fingers twitching for nicotine. The other being that though he was shorter then Erik, he liked to get up in his face.

"About breakfast."

"Don't lie to me, _freak_," The guard said, pointing the muzzle of his rifle at Erik's chin. From behind him Alex stepped forward, but Erik threw out an arm to hold the kid back. "You get back, blondie!" The guard snapped, turning the gun towards Alex. Erik's eyes flashed. That was mistake number one of the management for that morning. It took only a second for Erik's hand to grab the barrel of the gun, ripping it out of the man's hand. The guard barely got a gasp out before the end of the gun smashed into his nose.

"Don't threaten my friends…" Erik snapped, smacking the man with the gun, this time sending the guard to his knees with the blow, as well as spraying the white, streaky floor with red droplets.

Despite his fast reaction, Erik was disappointed not to get more than a third hit in before a loud whistle went off. The doors to the room slammed open and a swarm of gun wielding men burst in. With six guns aimed at his head, Erik had no choice but to drop the rifle in his hand, lift his arms and hope they wouldn't shoot. Erik didn't even get his hands in the air and the butt of a rifle hit him under his ribs, upwards to force the air from his lungs. A fist collided with his head a second later, followed by the hard butt of another gun into the side of his face. The force made the weakened man stumble, falling to his knees. He could hear Alex behind him, fighting against who Erik assumed were the guards. Erik pushed off the ground to stand, turning his head just in time to see a guard swinging his gun at him like a baseball bat. Erik's instincts turned his head, but the barrel still caught him and sent him to the ground instantly. The floor was cool against his cheek, but it did little to block out the shouts around him and pain. Erik had to give them credit, as a foot hit his side, causing him to cough and curl into a ball. They knew not to let him get his hits in anymore.

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><p>And so ends chapter one. R&amp;R if you want... I'll probably get another chapter up eventually.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Kay, I just realized I forgot my disclaimer last chapter... I don't own X-Men, or the characters. If I did, I'd be rich and not writing fanfics...

Also, I thank you for the reviews. Seriously, that's what keeps me posting my stuff. I cab easily write this for me, I'm posting it for you. So if you want me to keep it going, you got to let me know.

On another note. Sorry it takes so long to upload, I like to make sure I edit it, double edit then even get a friend to proof it before I post it. I'll try to update a little faster next time. Work is kind of harsh on my right now. ANYWAYS. Hope you enjoy this Charles POV chapter.

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><p>Charles couldn't sleep. He rarely slept and, when he did, it was usually when he nodded off for only a few moments before he shot upright awake again. He was plagued by nightmares and he felt too vulnerable asleep. He liked to make sure Hank and Sean were doing alright… At least, that was what he told himself. Truth be told, even he was finding it hard to function. He'd lost count of the weeks spent in the 'rehabilitation camp'. He'd stopped counting after three. What started as temporary was starting to look bitterly permanent. Not to mention that some mutants just seemed to vanish. The sickly ones, weak and worse off just tended to just...vanish. Charles was quickly coming to terms with what he believed was the goal of this camp.<p>

To kill them all.

There would be no investigation. No one pointed out the missing faces. No one cared as much as Charles did. He didn't need to be able to touch people's minds to see their pain, feel their hunger and hopelessness. To be completely honest, he couldn't handle it anymore. He couldn't handle being locked with all these people, unable to do anything to help. The thought made Charles close his eyes, pulling his knees up against his cold chest again. He suppressed a shiver, wrapping his arms around his legs, trying to ignore the gross feeling of his ribs pressed against his upper thighs. Above him Hank snorted a little in his sleep, shifting a little. Charles was glad the kid was getting some rest. Charles shivered, unable to hold it back this time, and he snuggled further back against the wall, into the shade of his cot. It was never going to end. It was hopeless. He was useless. There was nothing more he could do. Not for him, nor for Hank or Sean.

He'd already lost Alex, had long since lost Raven. He hoped to the high Heavens that Erik's out of state trip had kept him safe… But he wasn't willing to hold onto such hopes. They never really helped make the situations any less dreadful. These thoughts haunted the telepath's mind a moment before his neck jolted upright, his eyes snapping open. He'd drifted off again. He breathed out a slow growl of disapproval before lifting his gaze to the tiny, barred window his sleeping quarters offered. Or at least the sleeping quarters for that night, they changed on a regular basis, but he tended to stick with Sean and Hank. He wasn't sure where Sean was, he'd gotten ushered into a different room before Charles could catch him. There was light seeping in through the window. Daylight. It was morning already. And as if on cue, the sound of locks being unbolted creaked from the door to the cell-like room. Hank snorted again, the bed shaking as the younger mutant sat upright. Charles could see his feet hanging over the edge of the bed a moment later. The door opened slowly, and a guard stuck his head in. As always, the guards looked cocky, proud. What with their dull olive uniforms, and matching hats. And the rifles. Though Charles had heard some say they were more for show, they didn't carry bullets. Not in this section of the camp, they were only for the more rowdy mutants. They did carry tasers and pepper spray however, as Sean had learned the first day they were there….

Charles felt his heart squeeze at the memory. Alex had valiantly protected the smaller mutant, but none had seen him since. The shouts, the howls of pain, the sight of Alex's face being beaten in with all the brutality of… Charles didn't even know what to compare it to. It was painful to just watch, heartbreaking as the blond had been hauled off.

"Oi. Get up, sunshine," the guard chuckled, banging the edge of the door with his hand. Charles knew the drill, and did as he was told. He pushed himself from the bed a moment before Hank hopped down from the upper bunk. Charles reached over to the end of his bed, fingers snaking around the cold object there. A moment later and the glasses were neatly on Hank's nose where they belonged. The two walked in silence as they were shepherded into the growing group of mutants. Some, unlike Charles and Hank, were talking in low voices. Charles' mouth felt far too dry and bitter to speak.

"You look awful, Professor… Worse then usual," Hank murmured from beside him. Charles blinked, looking over and up. Hank's face was looking forward, but his features were clouded with concern. "You need to sleep. Eat more."

"There's not enough food as it is…"

"Sean and I aren't eating yours anymore. You need it too," Hank argued. "And you have to at least try and sleep once and a while."

"I am fine, Hank. Thank you for your concern. But I am fine," Charles argued sharply. His voice was quiet and lacking real authority. But he was firm on where he stood and that was enough for him. Apparently, it was enough for Hank as well, seeing as the other mutant merely closed his mouth with a sigh.

Despite the argument, Charles picked at his food without little real interest. In all honesty, he _should_ have been starving. Being stuck in this camp had gotten rid of his appetite entirely. He frowned down at the mush that the guards called oatmeal. He poked it with a spoon, his vision blurred as he just stared at the light lumps. Beside him, Hank was talking to Sean in hushed tones, but Charles couldn't really focus on what was being said. Well, he wasn't paying attention to the specifics. He could hear the difference in tone between the tones, but he couldn't bring himself to listen or join in. He lifted his arm, propping his chin up on his hand, bracing his elbow against the wood as he continued to poke at his food. He was tired, but he couldn't sleep. He was hungry, but he couldn't eat. He wanted to know what was wrong with him, but he didn't have the energy or drive to fix the problem. He wanted to, if just for the boys… But they seemed to be coping alright.

A loud ringing sounded through the mess hall, echoing off the hard walls, right into the ears of the mutants residing there. Charles winced a little at the fire-alarm like ringing, his head tilting as though that could block out the noise. It didn't, of course. Beside him, Sean grimaced with his mouth full as Hank lifted his hands to cover his ears, hands vanishing in his lanky, brown locks. The bell shrieked a few minutes more before it cut off, the echoes bouncing around the area for a moment after. The room stayed silent for a second before the sounds of scrapping and murmurs refilled room. It wasn't nearly the buzz a cafeteria would hold, but it was better than the silence in Charles' opinion. He got to his feet, as everyone else was doing as the door to the mess hall opened. Breakfast was over, and it was time to go to the holding rooms. Sean pushed close against Charles' back, hands gripping the waistline of his pants as to not get separated. Hank's arm bumped against Charles', though he didn't hold on to him. Charles certainly hoped when winter came they would at least get shirts.

As the mutants shuffled from the cool room, the guards pushed them either to the left, or the right. The left side would go outside, to enjoy the late summer sunshine. Any that were pushed right would go to the inside holding room. Charles had once preferred the outside cage, if just because it was different from the rest of the white-walled building. But now he didn't really care, he just shuffled along, eyes lowered to watch his feet. This was the norm, and that was how the telepath functioned day in and day out. You know, if one could call it functioning.

The many bare feet slapped against the ground as the murmurs and mumbles fell away. Groups clustered tighter together, like he and the boys. But that was why there were guards in the centre, they broke up the groups. Charles wasn't sure if there was a real reason for it, or if they just enjoyed it. The humans grunted orders, threatening in low tones as they lifted their rifles and batons.

As they approached, one moved directly towards Charles and pushed him to the left so hard that the telepath stumbled a little bit before catching his balance. Sean's grip on him slipped and he was tugged to the right, smacking into Hank to send them both to that side. Hank moved forward, trying to get by but backed away sharply as a baton was shoved at his face with a low growling warning. Charles lifted his gaze, shaking his head slowly, silently saying they would find each other at dinner. After all, that was the only time all the mutants in his quadrant of camp were all together.

It was bright outside, almost too bright. The grass was course, bristly and scarce. Charles could recall there being a quite nice lawn when he'd arrived, but neglect had let it shrivel into nothing. He was currently seated on one of the prickly patches, pressed into the corner of caged area. His back was flat against the wall of the building, his left side leaning into the fence. Above him, the sun beat down and the only shadows offered were those from the fence's chain links and the barbwire up top. He could hear low voices complaining, but Charles honestly didn't really feel the heat. He was too busy staring through the fence. It was another holding pen, but one that wasn't usually used. That much was obvious by the softer looking grass that resided there. It was also smaller. Charles imagined it was a solitary pen. He'd never seen it in use however.

Charles' eyes shut slowly, the world blurring into blackness as he drifted off again. Unfortunately, it lasted for only a moment before the sound of a door slamming open jolted him upright. Sharply inhaling in surprise as his heart skipped a beat, he looked back at the door in alarm. Noticing that it was still closed, he blinked blearily at it before hearing a grunt on his left. He turned his face that way, eyebrows lifting in surprise as three guards lugged a body through one of the other doors. The two doing the dragging were snarling jibes in the mutant's ears, despite his obvious near unconscious state. Charles felt a swell of pity for the man. His hair was brutally cut and his long, toned but thin body was covered in bruises and cuts of varying age. Charles' eyes swept the body as he was tossed to the ground, before the telepath closed his eyes to hide the pain. It was bad in their side, but the others faced much worse. He didn't dare open his eyes, unable to bare looking at the poor man.

"Get off me," came a hoarse, low snarl. That snarl made Charles' eyes shoot open in an instant, even if he remained facing down. He knew that voice. His head slowly moved upright as he pushed to his feet, peering through the fence as his hands tangled themselves into the wire. The mutant on the other side pushed to his hands and knees, spitting a mouthful of blood and saliva on the ground before his head turned to face the smug guards. His lip was split, his one eye turning deep purple-y brown but despite that, Charles knew that face.

"Erik… He breathed. Part of him was thrilled at the sight of his friend, but that part was overshadowed quickly at the situation at hand. One of the guards lifted his foot and stomped on Erik's back, sending the already battered mutant to the ground.

"Stay down if you know what's good for you," the shorter of the guards laughed, leaning over to grab a fist full of Erik's hair to pull his face upwards. "One more stunt like what you pulled back there and you'll get put down," the man warned with a touch of amusement in his voice. Charles' brows furrowed - the guard looked like he too had been through an ordeal, his nose looked broken in the very least. He gave a short and grim smile at that, dropping it quickly as he watched with horror.

Of course, Erik didn't stay down despite Charles' silent pleading for him to follow the orders. A baton smashed against Erik's side and he went down again, causing Charles to wince as though he were the one in pain. He could not just stand there. He had to do something else. There was no way that he was just going to watch as Erik was beaten to death. It shocked him to see Erik so easily bested. The man was so much more then what he had been reduced to. Charles' gaze flicked downward as he looked for something, anything that he could use to distract the guards. The fist-sized rock that was just a couple feet away would suffice. He leaned over and scooped it up, hefting it to judge the weight before stepping a few feet back. He furrowed his brows as he concentrated deeply on the aiming. Sports were never his strong point, but he hoped the little bit of throwing history he had would be useful. He lobbed the rock with more power than he thought he'd had and watched as it soared over the fence. Despite the aiming, he missed his target but the rock did smack into the lower leg of another guard. The man let out a yelp and all eyes snapped to Charles.

There was no way the mutant could have pretended it wasn't him. The other mutants in his cage were all staring at him, mouths agape. Charles swallowed roughly before he moved, picked up another stone and lobbed it over the fence with more force. This one missed entirely, but the anger that covered the men's faces was more than a clue that he had succeeded in his distraction. Another mutant picked up a stone and hurled it over too, his aim far better than Charles'. This rock managed to hit the guard that Charles had originally aimed for square in the face. The rocks were too small to do much damage, but they did enrage the men.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" One of the guards yelled as he approached the fence. Charles looked from the man to Erik, catching those stormy eyes with his own for just a fraction of a second. The yelling of both the guards and a handful of mutants soon had the door to the enclosure open and a handful of guards swarmed in. Charles backed away but only got about a step before one had his arms pinned back behind his shoulders. Charles cringed in pain, yelping lightly as he was pushed towards the door. His arm was pushed further upright, causing another yelp to crawl from his throat.

"We do not tolerate the harm of our officers," the guard snarled into his ear, shoving Charles through the door and up against the wall on the opposing side. He pushed Charles' arm further behind him, towards the opposite side until a sharp popping-crack sounded. That sound was very nearly completely drowned out by the howl of pain that accompanied it. The guard dropped the telepath into a heap on the floor before gesturing for one of his lower officers to come. "Take him next door. He wants to act like them, he'll stay with them," the guard growled. "Bring in the next one."

Charles held back a slight whimper as he was pulled to his feet, and shoved down the hallway. He held his arm to his side, tears remaining damned at the edge of his eyes as he moved. There was no doubt that his shoulder was dislocated. That much he knew. He had gotten their message, loud and clear. He listened now, following the guard like a dog while chomping his bottom lip to hold back his tears. He felt more alive now in the state of pain then he had in weeks, but he almost wished to go back to that time before he'd thrown the stone.

The guard pulled out some keys as they arrived at a barred door in the middle of the hall. On the other side, a guard leered through, eyeing Charles with smirk. Charles was relieved to see it wasn't one of those that had been outside. He didn't want to know what they would have done to him… His guard unlocked the bars, shoving Charles through and into the arms of the other guard. "Come on, sweet heart. You're just in time for lunch," the man chortled, smacking Charles' lower back with the butt of his gun to keep him moving forward. As much as he felt the dread from the simple tone of voice that the guard used, he couldn't help the low smirk as he realized that he might be seeing Erik soon.


End file.
